


Thot Party

by kithmoan



Category: The Who
Genre: Gay Sex, Hater - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-04-05 08:58:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14040723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kithmoan/pseuds/kithmoan
Summary: The Who are just starting their career in England when a hater from France goes out of her way to ruin things for them. What will happen to The Poo? Find out by reading.





	1. As it Began

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liana/gifts).



"Where is my dippity doo?!!" Yelled Roger while frantically looking around the small area they had to get ready in.

"I DON'T KNOW ROGER WOULD YA STOP YELLING AT ME?" Yelled Pete.

"Omg fine nigga," Said Roger "I'll have to perform without good hair I guess."

"LOL HI GUYS," I said as I barged into the small room "LOOK WHAT I FOUND!"

"What is it now, Keith?" Said John.

I pull a container of dippity doo from behind my back.

"HEY, GIVE ME THAT, I WAS LOOKING FOR IT FOR FOREVER!" Exclaims Roger.

"LOL UR GAY HAHAHAH OKAY," I sayd

"Omg stfu Keith you're the one thats always snogging John," Say Roger.

"SHHHHHHHHHHH," Yelp John

"No literally everyone knows already, even the fans are catching on." Said Roger.

"Well shit," Said John

"Ya dumbass did you really think people were that oblivious?" added Pete

"Well I- I didn't think it was THAT obvious," said John "It's not like we were doing it in front of all the fans."

"Whatever," said Pete.

"Be ready in two," said a man with a deep voice as he peeked his head into the dressing room.

"Sure thing!" replied Roger

"HURRY UP RETARDED FAGGOTS!!!" yelped Roger as soon as the man left.

"SAYS THE ONE WHO SPENDS FIVE HOURS DOING HIS HAIR," I teased

"SHUT UP WE NEED TO GO!" said Roger

"OKAY I KNOW," I yept.

We all did our finishing touches and walked out the door leading to the stage. We weren't really famous yet, but we had quite the following. The second we set foot on the stage tons of people screamed and cheered. The gig was like every other, playing a few songs and then Pete smashing a guitar to keep them entertained. I, personally, think it's a waste of money to keep smashing guitars, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

After the show we all went back to the dressing room to get cleaned up. Performing is a lot of work, so you're bound to sweat, a lot.

"Lol wtf was that Pete you cant even play guitar retarded faggot," I said.

"Stop bullying me I'm depressed," said Pete and then he FROWN.

"He's kind of right," said John

"Lol okay enough bullying!!!" said Roger bc hes gay lololol

"Camoon give me a kiss," said Pete when he lean to Roger xD

"No!! Pete I LOVE you but I'm not ready!" said Roger. 

"Please I'm sad :(" Say depressed Pete 

"Omg fine." Said Roger. 

Then he lean in and place kiss on Pete lip. 

"Ew your lip taste like dippity doo!!" said Pete laughily. 

"Stfu your dick tastes like shit LOL," said Roger. 

"Shut up nigger you cant let them know!!" said Pete madly.

"LOL GAY," said I. 

"Omg shut the fuck up Keith xoxo ly," said Johnson. 

After that we got in the car to head home. I guess the show was alright, but I'm still kind of sad about John telling me to shut up. Yeah it might've been a joke, but it hurt :( 

We got home and I was really ready to fall asleep, but John insisted I stay up and talk to him. We sat on the couch and talked about stuff I don't really remember. I eventually fell asleep OOPS.


	2. Amusement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Keith go to an amusement park and Pete and Roger do..... stuff.

I woke up to the cold sensation of water being poured on my head

"What the fuck?" I said and looked up to see John holding a cup of ice water.

"Finally, you're up," he said "It's almost ten we need to get going."

"Ugh fine."

I got up, wiped the water off my face, and got dressed. I just wore a Who shirt, jeans, and my gay ass shoes because #selfpromo. 

"Where's Pete?" I asked. "He's making breakfast," replied John.

"I didn't know he could cuisiner," I said.

"It's just pancakes," John yelp "he can't _actually_ bake."

"Oh, that makes sense," I said.

"Yeah..." he replied.

I walked to the kitchen to see Pete wearing an apron and making pancakes on the stove. It was so hilarious I couldn't hold back my laugher.

"STOP LAUGhT!" said Pete.

"YOU'RE SO TALL IT LOOKS SO FUNNY ON YOU," I said while still laught.

"SHUT UP, I KNOW, YOU DON'T NEED TO KEEP POINTING IT OUT!" said Pete.

"Okay fine," I said "When is the food gonna be ready?"

"Soon," replied Pete.

"Ok," I said. 

I just watched Pete while John and Roger got coffee.

Watching someone make pancakes was wrong, but y'know I didn't really have anything better to do.

"Okay fat nigga they're done LOL YOUR FAT," said Pete and before I could even reply I felt a warm pancake splat onto my face.

"WTF PETE I JUST GOT CLEANED UP FUCK YOU," I retorted, but Pete just laught.

"LOOK WHO'S THE ONE LAUGHT NOW," said Pete as he continued to laughT at the pancake on my face. It didn't have anything on it, but it still got my face all greasy.

I wiped my face and washed it in the washroom. I barely trusted Pete before, but this just made me not trust him at all.

After that we just ate are breakfast in silence. I made sure to sit away from Pete to avoid anything from happening again.

"Omg okay bitches we need to fucking go LOL," said Jogn as he ran out of the house like a crazy man. Of course I followed after him because I ain't leaving my best friend whom i want to fuck me alone hahahahaha. Shortly after I heard the footsteps of Pete and Roger leaving followed by the thud of an old wooden door closing.

Since it was a Saturday and we had no gig tonight I was planning on just having fun with John the whole day, but of course annoying Pete and Roger had to come along UGH FUCK THEM. Anyways, we got in the cab to go and get breakfast. I sat by John because Pete smelled like poo and Roger smelled like dippity doo. 

We arrived at the restaurant LOL IT WAS REALLY JUST WAFFLE HOUSE and sat down at a booth.

“Soo..,” began Pete “what are yo’all planning on doing today?” 

“Well I was planning on spending the whole day with John, ALONE,” I said. I might’ve accidentally been mean to Pete who’s really sensitive and depressed, OOPS.

“Oh, I’ll just… stay home all day and lie in bed contemplating suicide ha ha,” said Pete.

“Noo I’m sorry Pete I love you I don’t want to be rude I just really want to have a day with John like we used to do before our lives got filled up with band stuff,” I said “you and Roger can do something together.”

The waitress approached our table and we all turned to face her. Pete looked depressed as hell like he hadn’t gotten any sleep for a whole year.

“What will you have?” she said with an obviously fake smile on her face. 

“Oh I’ll just have a plain waffle,” Pete said. 

“Okay and for you?” she said looking over at me.

“I’ll have what he got,” I said “actually just get us what he got.”

“Okay, any drinks?” she asked.

“Sure, water for us all,” I said. 

“Okay, your food will arrive soon,” she said and walked away.

“OKAY NIGGA WTF WTF WTF IM SO HONRY LOLOLL,” I say

“Stfu faggot I’ll fuck u when we get home not rn,” said John.

That hurt my feelings, but I didn’t tell him. 

“Okay..” I said trying not to sound sad. 

“Why are you always korn Keith what the fuck?” said Pete.

“Maybe because I’m always around John *insert flushed emoji*,” I said honrily

Peter Dennis Blandford Townshend just rolled her eyes.

“Pete, me ask, meet me at hotel John like and Kit because that house,’ said Roger

“Fine,” replied Pete.

“Yaya,” say Dalty

Our waitress walked up to our table and handed us our waffles lol okay blah blah and water blah 

So like we ate them and it was good not as good as John’s dick tho LOL.

Rogers super reatrded if you didn’t know he has a mantel disorchard.

“Omg niggas how did u eat so fast?” said Petey.

“We’re fat, that’s how,” replied John.

“Ya,” I said

“Well I don’t wann be fat :(“ say Peter

“Pete bb we need to go,” said Rog. Yes he can actually talk idk wtf happened before I think he malfunctioned.

“Okay I just won’t eat the rest,” said Pitter.

“Anorexia,” I said LOL

“I’m not!! Stop being mean Keith :(“ say Peter.

“Okay,” I said.

We already paid for our food so we just left. We drove back to the house and uhh wtf do I say right here blah blah something about uhhhh. Me and John were ready to leave those annoying niggers behind so like we told them we were leaving……………………… and we left.

“So… where do you wanna go?” He asked me.

“Um I was thinking maybe the amusement park.”

“Okay, sounds fun XOXOXOXOXO,” said John

We pulled up to the gay ass amusement park and I bopped out of the car. John bopped out right after me. 

“Where do u want to go first?” he aske

“Nigga idk lets do….” I looked around the place and said the first thing I saw “bumper cars!!!”

“Omg okay Kith!!” said Johnson.

We walked over to the bumper cars holding hands bc gay. We approached the bumper car place uhm and that uhm how do amusement parks work idk. Anyways, we got into a bumper car together bc idk. It was actually really fun and we totally annihilated all those niggas LOL. 

After that we went on a roller coaster it was also really fun but I’m fat and almost threw up. We also went on those things where u sit and it like flies around y’know?? 

Then we ate candy floss bc yummmmm and John was like “Nigga this candy floss good..” and I was like “I know right.”

Then we made out in the bathroom mmm idk how to write this and it be good so just imagine keith and john making out in a bathroom hot hot. We didn’t fuck tho so don’t imagine that. 

Anyways, after that we like left the bathroom and went on another shitty ride idfk tea party??? 

We went home to find that Roger and Pete were nowhere, rip. Oh ya btw it’s like 4 pm now y’know. Anyways, we went home.

“Um where’s the others?” I asked.

“Didn’t Roger say something about a hotel earlier at the cafe?” he replied. 

“Oh yeah, they’re probably at a hotel then LOL. Why though?”

“They’re probably fucking, typical,” said he.

“Ya well they better come home soon or I’m tracking them down and forcing them to,” I say

“Keith wtf nigga let them fuck in peace,” say Joan.

“Omg okay fine,” I reply… but on the inside I was devastated. 

“Anyways, what should we do while we wait?” I asked

“Um, we could do a puzzle,” 

“Ok,” I reply xD

Then we did puzzle for 1 hour. 

I heard the siren of Roger’s new yellow volvo as it pulled into the driveway. 

“TYERE HOME!” I yelped to John who didn’t seem interested. 

“Finally,” he replied.

By now it was 8 pm.

The door opened and sure enough Roger and Peter walked in. They were all sweaty and Roger was walking with a limp. I assumed they fucked, but didn’t care enough to ask.

“You’re back!!” I exclaimed the second they set foot inside. 

“Yeah, I’m just gonna sleep now,” said Pete, obviously exhausted. 

“Me too,” said Rogre. 

Then they walked off to their rooms. 

I told John goodnight and went to mine as well.

\-------------

I woke up in the middle of the night cause I was thirsty and I need MILK. But then I look outside and Pete's car isn't there so I'm like tf.

"Omg John," I yelp as I ENTER his room, "Pete and Roger are gone."

"Omg they should kill themselves," he says and goes back to bed.

"BUT JOHHHHHHN! I'm worried."

"Omg fine we'll stay up and wait for them."

So we go and sit in the living room and wait for them and we're getting worried cause it's been like 2 hours or something idk. Then Pete and Roger walk in the door and Roger's on crutches so I'm like, 

"Wow what happened," but I don't say that, I just think it.

But I do say,

"Oh my god," and hug Pete cause I was worried.

He's like,

"Um hi."

like nigger I was worried and that's all you say, tf.

John walks up behind me and he seems mad but luckily it's not at me so I'm happy.

"Where were you? And what happened?" he asks and looks at Roger.

Then I look at Roger and I'm like freaking out cause HE'S ON CRUTCHES AND HE HAS A CAST ON HIS ANKLE!!!

“I was trying to get down stairs to get some water and I fell and I um… broke my ankle,” Roger says.

And I like run over and start making sure he's okay which is basically me just like,

"ARE YOU OKAY? ARE YOU OKAY? ARE YOU OKAY? ARE YOU OKAY? ARE YOU OKAY?"

John's like,

“Don’t just leave again without telling us, we were worried."

and then Pete's like,

"Ok."

And then me and John go sleep in the same bed cause, yeah. And Pete and Roger go to separate beds cause they're ugly lol.


	3. Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by Skyla (my sister). 
> 
> OMg so Pete and Roger fuck and stuff.

***Pete’s perspective***

John and Kithhh leave and Roger’s like,

“Ok bae let’s go.”

So we take the car to the hotel and Roger buys a room, he looks nervous.

“Aww he’s scared of my big cock,” i think.

“Ok pete,” he says shaking, “let’s go.”

So we go up to the room and I start taking my shirt off.

“WHAT ART THOU DOETH!” yelp rog.

“What?” i ask.

Roger pause for a second.

“Look at this place,” he aforementioned, “the feng shui is all wrong, we need to fix it.”

“What?” I ask but roger’s already moving the bed.

“PETE!” he phonates boorishly, “HELP ME!”

“Omg what?”

“Help me move the bed to the balcony.”

Yeah we got a room with a balcony cause we’re rich lol.

So I help Roger and we move everything to the balcony and bathroom and then leave the TV in the middle of the room with three (4) toilet paper rolls stacked on top of it slightly to the left. By then it’s been 2 hours.

Once we’re done I’m like,

“Omg ok roger can we fuck now?”

But rog is like,

“Wait, you want to f-fuck? I thought you just wanted to take your shirt off. We can’t fuck the feng shui is all wrong.”

So then he takes the bed and ejaculates,

Ejaculate: say something quickly or suddenly.

“Pete! Help me move this back in.”

So we block the windows to the balcony with everything from the balcony and we block the hotel door with everything from the bathroom so that no one could come in. That took another two hours so it’s 2 pm.

“Ok! Are we done now!?” I ask angry.

Roger looks scared and i feel bad.

“Whatever,” i say, “it’s ok just let me fuck you.”

“Wait,” roger says looking terrified, “you want to top me!? Omg the feng shui isn’t right for that!”

“ROGER!” I scream, startling him.

“Sorry Pete,” Roger says looking down, “it’s ok, we don’t have to reorganize the room. We just need two 22 pound watermelons, 1 cantaloupe, 4 lime green bananas, 28 grapes, exactly, and 78 blueberries to put in that corner.”

“Roger!” I scream, “I don’t care about the fucking feng shui I just want to fuck!”

Roger looks on verge of tears again so I feel bad again.

“Ok,” i say, “it’s ok, if I’m gonna fuck you, you need to feel comfortable so let’s go.”

I grab car keys and start to head out of room but there’s all the stuff in front of the door.

“Fuck,” I yelp and start to move the stuff.

It takes an hour to move all the stuff so then it's 3pm.

We have to go to all these different supermarkets to get all the fruit and I try to have fun with roger and joke but he just looks scared and seems out of it.

Once we find all the fruit it’s been 3 hours and we go back to the hotel.  
I move all the stuff back in front of the door and Roger arranges fruit in the corner once he’s done it’s been an hour so it’s 7.

“Ok Roger?” I ask.

He nods nervously.

I take down pantaloons and my dick pop out, it go shwwwiiiing.

Roger takes off shorts and faces wall, but he’s not hard.

I put my long guitarist finger to Rog entrance and push in, he lets out a whimper.

I put two fingers in and do some other stuff to get him ready blah blah blah, roger’s shaking. I put the condom on my dick and position it I touch it to roger’s entrance.

Roger yelp and sink to the ground shaking.

“Roger wtf,” I say.

He turns to look at me and he’s crying.

“Roger?” I ask.

He scream and jump up, startling me so I fall down and my dick flies in the air kind of.

When I look back up Roger already has shorts back on and is sobbing while throwing everything away from the door so he can leave, not caring if it gets broken or not.

“Roger!” I yell.

I scramble to get up and put my pants back on and once I do Roger opens door and runs out.

I chase after him, he runs for a long time cause we’re on the 29th floor and he just runs down the stairs while I chase him.

“Roger stop!” I yell.

We’re almost at the first floor when roger trips and falls down the stairs.

“Fuck,” I yelp and rush down to help him.

He’s lying on the ground in a ball, crying.  
I try to touch him but he jerks away.

“Roger I’m sorry just let me help,” we’re both sweaty and out of breath.

Roger stays on the ground crying for a bit but eventually reaches up with his arms so I can help him up.

“Can we just go home?” he asks weakly.

“Yeah,” I say and we walk to the front desk.

We pay for our room and leave a 500 dollar tip because I don’t know if roger broke anything in his haste to leave the hotel room and we just hope that will cover it.

We go to the car and I unlock it, I help Roger into the passenger seat and then walk around to the other side of the car and get in.

It’s about a thirty minute drive back to the house. For the first 15 minutes Roger doesn’t talk he just stares out the window sniffling.

It’s a clear night, with a new moon. The only light coming from the setting sun and street lights. It’s twilight as we drive back. (Oh shit this isn’t supposed to be good ummm)

“I’m sorry,” roger says, “I know you just want to fuck me.”

“It doesn’t matter that much Roger,” I say.

“I-I’ve never had sex with a guy before…” he says, “I’m scared.”

“Oh,” I say, I didn’t realize Roger was a virgin.

“And I,” he continues, “I actually really like you Pete… and I don’t want it to be meaningless… and I’m scared.”

“Oh… um…” I say.

Fuck why don’t I know what to say.

“It hurts doesn’t it?” he asks.

Should I tell him the truth?

“Yeah,” I say, “I’m sorry. If I had known I would’ve been more careful.”  
“You didn’t even do anything,” he laughs kind of.

“Oh yeah,” I say.

After that we have another 5 minutes of silence.

“So you really like me?” I tease.

“Shut up,” Roger replies.

“But do you?” I ask more seriously.

“Yeah,” he says.

I sit in silence for a minute or two trying to figure out how I feel.

“I…” I say, “I don’t know. Usually I only have one night stands. I know I care about you more than that. I don’t know if I love you or whatever. I don’t really know how love feels, sorry.”

“Ok,” he says.

Then we arrive at the house. I try to help Roger out of the car but he just shrugs me off.

“I’m fine Pete.”

Oh, Ok.

Fuck I totally messed this up.

“I’m sorry,” I say as we reach the door.

Roger doesn’t reply. We walk in.

“You’re back!!’ Keith yelps once we enter.

I don’t really feel like engaging with Keith right now. I’m sweaty and exhausted from moving everything around and running after roger. Roger is also sweaty and walking with a limp. I realise they probably think we fucked.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna sleep now,” I say.

“Me too,” says Roger and we walk to our rooms.

\-------------

“Pete,” I hear a voice in my sleep.

“PETE!” The voice repeats, waking me up.

“What’s up?” I ask and look up at Roger biting his lip, he’s sitting on my bed.

“My ankle really hurts,” he says glancing around nervously, “I already took pain reliever but it still really hurts I don’t know what to do.”

I sit up and face him.

“I would go to Keith or John,” he continues, “but I don’t want to explain to them how I hurt my ankle. Can you please help me?”

“I guess he is mad at me,” I think.

I sigh sadly and stand up.

“Ok Roger,” I say, “can you try to stand on it?”

“Yeah,” he says and starts to get up.

Once he’s standing one his good foot he tries to stand on his bad ankle. When he puts some of his weight on the ankle he yelps and almost falls over but I jump up and catch him before he hits the ground. He’s crying again and I don’t know what to do so I grab my coat, quickly put on some shoes, and help him to the car. Then we drive to the hospital.

“Oh my god are you Roger Daltrey!” a nurse exclaims.

“Yes,” Roger says weakly and rather annoyed, “that’s me.”

“Can I have an autograph!?” the nurse yells enthusiastically.

“Can you help me with my ankle?” Roger retorts.

“Oh yeah,” the nurse says as she hands Roger a piece of paper and a pencil, “just sign that. I’ll get an ice pack.”

“Are you okay?” I ask as Roger signs the paper annoyedly.

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t famous,” he says.  
After awhile the nurse comes back in with an ice pack and says,

“Oh my god thank you! I love The Who!” she exclaims.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hi,” she says and looks me over confusedly, “who are you?”

Roger bursts out laughing which makes her excited that she got her idol to laugh. I’m just annoyed.

“I’ll come get you to get an X-Ray in a bit,” she says and leaves.

“Fuck her!” I say, “I write all the fucking songs, I play guitar! All you do is sing! ‘Who are you?’ Ugh fuck her!”

Roger still continues to laugh until she comes back in to get us for his X-Ray then he gets really nervous.

After the X-Ray we go back into the room. Awhile later a doctor comes in.

“So your ankle is broken,” he says.

Roger’s face goes white. As he continues talking I can see Roger’s not really listening.

“It should be healed in about two months but until then you’re gonna have to wear a cast and use crutches so we’ll get those for you in a second. I’m gonna come back in to give you a cast, ok?” he says.

“Ok,” I reply because Roger is too stunned to and the doctor leaves.

Once he’s gone Roger looks seconds away from tears.

“How will the impact our music! What will this do to the band! Our image!” He screams.

“Hey,” I say and grab his hand to calm him down, but he jerks his hand away, “we’re not even on tour right now. No one will know, it’s ok. We’re just writing right now, we can still do that with you on crutches. And by the time we’re on tour you’ll be better, ok?”

“Ok,” he says.

After five minutes of waiting he grabs my hand and interlocks our fingers, my heart rate increases drastically and I’m rigid, staring straight ahead, trying not to let a blush spread across my cheeks. Wtf, 5 hours ago I was ready to fuck him and now I’m getting flustered over him holding my hand. I’m not stupid, I know I really like him. I don’t know why I said I didn’t earlier, I guess I was just scared. And I was embarrassed, because I didn’t really want to fuck him for the right reasons. I just thought that if I could fuck him once and get it over with I wouldn’t like him anymore and- Soon though the doctor walks into the room with the supplies to make a cast and Roger drops my hand.

“What color?” the doctor asks.

“Red.” Roger replies.

\-----------

After 30 minutes we’re leaving the hospital, Roger on crutches and me next to him.

“This is torture,” he says, “I can’t live like this for two months!”

“It’ll be okay,” I say, “I’ll help you.”

Once we get home we open the door to a very worried Keith and John.

“Oh my god!” Keith yells and runs to hug me.

“Um… hi,” I say.

John walks up behind Keith and looks at Roger.

“Where were you?” he asks, “ and what happened!?”

He looks really worried.

“I was trying to get down stairs to get some water and I fell and I um… broke my ankle,” Roger says.

Keith rushed over to Roger and started asking him over and over again if he was ok, John just looked at me skeptically.

“Don’t just leave again without telling us, we were worried,” he says.

“Ok,” I say, and we all go to bed.

Keith and John sleep together.

Roger, of course, doesn’t sleep with me.


	4. Finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is almost sex and some other very graphic stuff in this chapter.

Today started off like every other day, wake up, have some shitty cereal, then do nothing LOL. I was just sitting on our old ass red couch when Peter yelped from in the kitchen.

“WTF NIGGERS WE HAVE NO MILK WHAT AM I GONNA EAT?!!!” 

“Omg Peter just go to the store it’s not that far away!!!” I yelled back at him.

“Nooo I don’t wanna go alone that’s scary what if I get kidnapped?” 

“Pete, you won’t get kidnapped,” said John, looking up from the book he was reading. He looked hot wearing reading glasses mM. 

“Let’s all go together!” suggested Rogre.

“Fine,” I said. 

“Okay,” said John. 

“Yay!” yelp Petey.

John took off his glasses and put his book down. I just got up from the couch and made sure my hair looked alright. 

Pete grabbed the keys and we left the house. 

We decided to go to Tesco cause like yeah. 

We all got in the car and me and John sat in the back. 

The drive was kind of quiet and then I realised… 

“ROGERS ON CRUTCHES HOW ARE WE GOING TO WHY DIDN’T HE STAY HOME?

“WE AREN’T JUST GONNA LEAVE HIM HOME ALONE ALL BY HIMSELF WHAT IF HE FALLS?” Peter YELP.

“NO I WANTED TO GOOOO!!” said Daltu.

“Okay nigger but it’s not our fault if you die,” I sayd. 

“Ok,” Roger said.

Car ride was over because we lived close to store.  
We got out and Peter helped Roger out.

We walked into the store and Pete went to get milk. I’m like really fat so… I got ice cream.

We were just standing and discussing what we need to buy when some random ass teenage looking girl walked up to us and just inspected us.

“OMG are you…. The Poo.. ?” she said.

“UH we’re The WHO,” said Pete.

“Omg….” she said then pulled out her phone and just started taking pictures of us WITHOUT OUR CONSENT, WTF NIGGER.

“HEY STOP TF ARE YOU DOING?” said Petey obviously angry.

“PETE YOU’RE GONNA MAKE HER CRY DON’T YELL AT HER,” said John.

“Okay.. fine,” reply Peter.

“Love you John xoxo,” she say.

“Okay but seriously nigger what the fuck?” I aske.

“You’re literally my favourite band omg except Daltrey LOL,” she say hHAHh.

Then Rogre was trynna skrt away like he sad,

“OMG WHAT HAPPENED?” she said when she saw Daltys crutchus

“I really thot you hated me…” reply Dalty :(

“I do, but, what happened???” she say.

“He broke his ankle obviously,” said Peter.

“Yeah he fell down the stairs,” said John.

“He’s dumb,” I added.

“Shut up Keefers,” sai Daltrue.

“Ok,” I said but like I was about to cry I can’t belive ROger is so mean to me :_(

“OH LOL RIP,” said the girl “Anyways, I’m Liana and I LOVE JOHN,”

“O,” say John “I love you too,”

“RHGFJRSGHUEHKWGhwrbghjwuyeqWUHUEGJSHJKAJKAFK” said Lian ‘OMG IM CRYING I CAN’T BREATHE I CAN’T BRESTTH.” then she drops dead. 

“OH shit is she okay..?” I ask. 

We just kind of stood there to see if she would rise back up and be like “ha ha gotcha!” but after a whole minute of just standing and her not moving, we got kind of worried. 

John got down on his knees and put his head up to her chest. 

“She isn’t dead,” he said “I’ll get her up.” 

He tried to wake her up, but it wasn’t working. We didn’t really do anything except stand there and watch John. I’m actually surprised no one thought we had like killed her or something. 

John walked away to the restrooms. We didn’t know what he was doing, but we trusted him anyway. He came back a few seconds later with his hands full of cold water. 

“Omg John you better NOT,” said Peter.

“What? It always works, so it better work this time,” Jogn replied with.

He then poured the water onto Liana’s face and she was up in an instant. 

“WOAH NIGGERS WHAT HAPPENED LOL,” she exfoliated.

“You kind of uh, passed out,” said John.

“Oh,” she said.

“Ya…” reply Jog.

“Oops okay well uh bye nice meeting you XOXO.” she said and then ran away wtf ???

“Uh what the fuck?” said Peetter. 

“She seems nice,” said Jhon.

“NICE? NICE?!!!” yelp Peter “WHAT DO YOU MEAN NICE? SHE WAS CREEPY AND STALKERISH,”

“Pfft. She seemed really young like she was a teenager, I bet she’s no harm.” said John.

“Still,” sya Oeter 

“Wahatever,” eye roll say John. 

“CAN WE PLEASE GO HOME NOW?” said Daltu

“YA PLSEASE,” I added .

“Okay,” say Peter. Then we walked to the register and payed for our food. 

After that we left bc uh ya that’s how grocery store work. 

We pack into car and I suck John dyke behind seat it was so yummu I’m surprised Roger didn’t see. We pulled into the place and Roger didn’t do the siren like usual. I’m kind of worried about him he seems like he has the pression.

We walk into house and Peter finally has his cereal lol ya it’s like 11 by now.

Wtf uhm so my dick hard bc JOHN IS SO HOT WITH HIS LITTLE HAIR AND HIS NOSE AND OH MY GOD HIS LIPS I JUST WANT HIM INSIDE ME FUCK AHHHH. SO, I go up to John and start being a cutie so he will love moi. John est très chaud, je veux qu'il me baise mm. 

“Johhhn, J’ai faim!!” Je gémis

“Manger.” Il m'a répondu.

“Nonnn,” 

“Omd qu'est-ce que tu veux?” il a dit, clairement agacé.

“Tu,” 

“Omd bien,” dit John. 

John pulls me away to our room. Idk where everyone else is lol. He pushes me onto bed and starts unbuttoning my collared shirt recklessly while kissing me at the same time. Every time we kiss it’s like our first. His lips just as soft as before. 

I feel sweat run onto my lip. I can tell he’s angry about something, but I don’t know what. ‘Was is me that made him mad?’ I wonder. We pull apart and just stare at each other for a second. His eyes are so goddamn beautiful and he’s so hot when he’s mad. 

He then continues to strip me down until I’m only in my boxers sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s still fully dressed, but I can tell he’s hard. He just looks me up and down admiring my body. I’m tired of waiting.

“God, just fuck me already!” I whine.

He hesitates for a second

“I want you to beg.”

“John please!” I say even louder than before. 

“Now that’s the spirit,”

“JOHN PLEASE!” I practically scream. 

He doesn’t respond. I don’t understand why he won’t fuck me. He just continues to tease me and finally starts undressing himself. 

Every piece of clothing that falls to the ground sends a cool wisp of air my way, giving me shivers. 

He’s only in his boxers now and fuck he’s so hot I want him to use me however he pleases. 

I bite my lip as I stare at his face. 

‘How is a human so perfect and beautiful and hot and why does he chose me over everyone else, who’s much better than me? Wh-’ but my thoughts are interrupted by the tap of a something on the window to my left.

We both look over to see LIANA AT OUR WINDOW WITH A CAMERA TAKING PICTURES? WHAT THE FUCK.

“JE LE SAVAIS, PÉDÉS!” she yells once she saw we were looking. Neither I nor John understood what she said, but we knew it was french.

“PISS OFF YOU SICK PILLOCK!” I yell back at her and immediately spring from the bed to close the curtains. I quickly get dressed and so does John. 

“Oh my god what the fuck am going to cry our career going to be ruined,” I say. I can already feel tears forming and in a matter of seconds I’m bawling. 

“Noo Keith don’t cry it’ll be okay. We just have to get the photos before she gets them to the public,” say John comforting me. 

(lol okay remember this takes place in like 1966 NOT 1969)

It was literally like four pm by now so time for dinner now lol we have early dinner haha. I had nothing because I hate myself and I’m fat and John was like “Eat baby.” and I was like “No LOL.” Peter got food I’m too lazy to figure out wtf u brits have for dinner. Roger had same thing. 

“UHM SO, uh… me and John were like doing the… uh we were about to fuck, an-”

“WHAT A FUCK I THOUGHT U WERE STRATE?!” say Daltu.

“NIGGER U DUMB THEY ARE NOT STRAIGHT THEY ARE GAY AND DATING U STUPID ASS NIGGER THIS IS WHY U HAVE NO GF FUCK YOU UGH UGLY ASS SHOR,” say Peter “Anyways, continue.”

“And our window curtains were open and Liana uhm kind of took photos of us,” I finish.

‘WTF I TOLD U SHE WAS A CREEPY STALKER!” yelp Peter. 

“I DIDN’T KNOW SHE FOLLOWED US HOME SHE SEEMED NICE STOP YELLING AT ME YOU’RE THE ANNOYING DISGUSTING FAGGOT AND A HORRIBLE FRIEND NO ONE'S EVER GOING TO LOVE YOU!” John yelp back.

“FUCK YOU YOU’RE STUPID I HATE YOU I HOPE YOU DIE THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” say Peter. 

‘NO IT’S FUCKING NOT IF YOU PAYED MORE ATTENTION AND MADE SURE SHE DIDN’T FOLLOW US THEN NONE OF THIS WOULD’VE HAPPENED!” John yelp.

“YOU’RE THE ONE THAT FUCKING HELPED HER!” say Petr.

“SHE SEEMED NICE WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU WHY ARE YOU SO MAD OH MY G-” 

“JOHN, STOP. PETER, STOP! I CAN’T DO THIS!” I yell, interrupting them, and run to my room, locking the door. 

I sit down on my bed and I can feel the tears stream down my cheeks. I’m crying again. ‘Fuck why am I so pathetic and fat I want to kill myself I’m not even joking’ I think. It would be so easy to just jump from the roof and feel the sharp pain of my bones breaking before I’m completely gone, but there would be a good chance of surviving that.

I list off suicide methods in my head and rule out the ones that aren't possible with my available resources. Everything seems so hopeless I just want to die. I don’t care if there’s pain, I just want to know that I will die. I want to slit my wrists and know that once all my blood is filling the bathtub there’s no chance of being saved. 

This is my last moment on Earth and I didn’t even say goodbye to my family or goodbye to John who I love so dearly, but know he doesn’t love me. Just a few hours ago we were sharing a happy moment and now here I am crying. I want to be dead by the time any news about us comes out. I just want to be gone. 

I’m going to do it. I’m going to sit in the tub, turn on the water, tell them I'm taking a bath, slit my wrists, and die. Those are my last moments and no one's going to stop me. 

I walk out of my room and see that they're still sitting at the table, talking. I’m glad they stopped fighting. John was the first one to see me.

“Are you alright, babe? I’m sorry about earlier, things got a little out of hand.” he says

“Yeah I’m fine. I’m going to take a bath, I love you!” I say, trying to hold back tears. They don’t know that I have a razor in my pocket. I’ve cut myself before but I just stopped recently because John convinced me to. I really love him, I really really do, but I can’t live knowing that everyone will know about us. What I’m about to do is best for our career. John won’t have to put up with an annoying, ugly, fat, fucking retard anymore and the band can just carry on without having me weighing them down. 

I go into the bathroom and lock the door behind me. I turn on the warm water and wait as the tub fills up. After a few minutes of waiting, it’s full. I take all my clothes off and step in. I didn’t turn off the faucet because I thought the sound of running water would help muffle my whimpering and me trying not to scream as I slice open my arm. Finally, time to end this worthless life. I’m so happy, nothing is going to stop me now. 

I smile and take the razor off the counter where I left it. I turn my arms wrist up and place them on the sides of the tub. I breathe for a few seconds and decide to do my left. I close my eyes and start crying again, but I have to stay quiet so they don’t hear. Even if the faucet is running there is still a chance of being heard. I take my final breath and press the blade into my skin. The pain is so agonising, but I don’t even flinch. I cut a long line down my arm and blood spews out, trickling down my arm and dying the once clear water a medium shade of red. 

My vision is already becoming blurry and I can’t even feel the pain anymore. I try to get the razor to slit my other wrist, but I’m already too weak. My thoughts are empty and It feels like I’m shutting down. 

‘ _Finally_ , I’m dead.’


	5. Suicide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol.

*John’s POV*

Is he mad at me? Is he blaming himself? I don’t want him to be sad. Fuck, I shouldn’t have yelled at him.

“I’ll be back guys,” I say and head to the bathroom.

I’ll open the door and walk in. Keith will probably be crying in the bathtub-I don’t think I can bear the sight-but it will be okay. I’ll go up behind him and hug him. I’ll rest my head on his shoulder and reassure him that everything will be okay. He’ll believe me and we’ll get through this together.

I turn the door handle and it’s locked. He probably just wants to be left alone, too bad. 

“Keith,” I call out, “Keith it’s me. Can you let me in?”

No reply.

“Keith,” I continue, “I’m sorry. It’s gonna be okay, just let me in.”

Still no answer.

Fuck Keith, why does he have to be so stubborn.

“Pete,” I yell to the dining room.

“Keith won’t open the door,” I whine.

Pete comes up behind me, annoyed.

“Fuck him,” he says and starts to turn away.

As he tries to go back to the dining room, he loses his footing and slips, landing hard on the ground.

“What the-” he says, picking up his hand and looking at it.

I look down to see that there’s water coming under the door.

“Ugh come on Keith!” I say exasperated, “you couldn’t turn off the water!? You’re going to ruin the floors!”

I turn back to Pete who is still staring at his hand, deep in thought. I think he’s looking at something on his hand, but I can’t tell what it is. I look down at the water to see what’s in it, but I can’t tell against the black floor. Suddenly, an unreadable emotion flashes in his eyes; it looks like terror, sadness, and anger all mixed into one. 

He bursts up from the ground, slipping on the water and almost falling again.

“What’s up?” I ask, confused.

But before I can even think of what to say next, Pete is KICKING DOWN THE FUCKING DOOR!

“What the fuck!” I yell, but he’s already rushing into the bathroom.

I find myself following after him.

Keith is sitting in the tub, the water around him blood red. It’s spilling out of the tub and onto the floor, running into the hall. I see him breathing so I laugh, more like a chuckle.

“Very funny, Keith” I say, continuing to laugh, “funny prank, you can get up now.”

But he doesn’t move, and my laugh fades away. I walk up to him,

“Keith?” I ask, fear filling my voice.

I grab his arm and turn it over, and I scream.

The gash is deep, dark, purposeful. The gash is jumbling my thoughts, confusing my brain, stopping my breath. The gash is the image that will never leave my mind for as long as I live. The gash is becoming further away and Roger pulls me to the couch, despite his broken ankle, as Pete calls the police, as Keith is put on a stretcher and rolled away. The gash is the only thing I can see as I sit in the back seat with Roger, and Pete follows the ambulance to the hospital. 

The city lights explode around us, but the only thing I can see is the gash. The car air freshener expels a sweet scent, but the only thing I can smell is Keith’s blood. Roger’s singing softly, but the only thing i can hear is the running water. Roger’s running his fingers gently through my hair, but the only thing I can feel is my heart, exploding into a million pieces, shards stabbing every organ I have, and leaving my body in my tears. And now I’m numb.

We’re sitting in the hospital waiting room, it’s ten at night, we’ve been here five hours, but it feels like an eternity. I’m vaguely aware of Pete leaving and telling Roger something, but his voice comes out jumbled to my ears, like he’s trying to speak but I’m underwater. After what feels like three days he comes back, which translates to ten minutes real time.  
“^@#*,” he says.

I can’t make out what he’s saying, but he keeps repeating it. A single syllable, a name? My name? What is my name? I feel his hand on my shoulder, through what feels like ten layers of fabric, and I sit up. I guess I just took my head out of the water, because now I can hear. And everything is so loud!

A tired hospital attendant clicking her pen at her desk, sounds like thunderous rain falling on a metal roof. The footsteps of nurses and doctors mulling around, sound like someone banging on steel drums, right next to my ear. Cars speeding down the freeway outside the window, sound like huge trucks driving through my head. And the loudest is Pete, speaking quietly, which sounds like a scream to my ears.

“JOHN!”

I double over and cover my ears with my hands. He looks confused and repeats my name. Seeing the same reaction from me, he says it again, this time just a whisper. I still wince in pain. By the time his voice isn’t hurting me he’s speaking in a barely audible whisper. 

“John,” he says, “I got you some chips from the vending machine.”

I look over and see Roger already eating a bag of chips, as quietly as he can; probably so he won't hurt me.

I take the chips from Pete and slowly open the bag. I carefully take a chip and raise it to my mouth. As I bite down a horrible taste fills my mouth and I immediately spit the ship onto the floor. 

“Sorry,” I say, so quietly that I doubt anyone can hear me.

Pete sighs and runs off to find napkins so he can clean my mess. When he gets back he sees that I haven’t eaten any more of the chips and shoots Roger a worried glance. He throws away the napkin and sits back down. I lay down on Roger’s lap again and he pets my hair slowly.

“We were just here last night,” Roger whispers to Pete, on the other side of me.

“Yeah,” Pete says, clearly out of it.

They sit in silence for a while after that, until Roger speaks again.

“I know you want to cry, but we have to be strong for John.”

Fuck, when did I become like this. I’m not letting them grieve or show any emotions because they have to look after me. I’m allowed to freak out but they have to stay strong, it’s not fair.

“No, it’s okay,” I whisper and try to sit up.

Once I do, a terrible headache shoots through my brain, causing me to flinch and hold my head in my hands, but I quickly recover, I have to be strong for Pete and Roger. I feel Pete’s hand on my shoulder coaxing me back down, I comply.

“I have a headache,” I whisper, sounding like a whiny baby.

“I’ll go get something for you,” Pete says and stands up before I can stop him.

I just lay there helplessly while Roger rubs my shoulder. I wish I could do something.

Once Pete comes back I take whatever pills he gives me and my headache goes away. After that I fall asleep, that should give them some time where they don’t have to be strong for me.

I’m woken up by someone shaking my shoulder. I look up to see Pete, with red teary eyes and his hair all a mess.

“We’re going home,” he says.

I start to panic.

“We can’t leave Keith! He needs us here! If we’re not here he’ll die!” I yell softly, shaking.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” says Roger, “we’re not doing anything for him. We’re just sitting here worrying. It’s two in the morning! We need to sleep!”

“You don’t care about him!” I yell, not caring that others are now staring at us, “you’re just gonna let him die!”

“No!” Roger yells back, “I just want to sleep! I just want to have a few hours where I don’t have to think about him, where I don’t have to worry about him! I don’t want to think about him in that room! I just want to sleep and think it can all be okay!”

“I’m not leaving,” I say.

“We’re not leaving you here alone,” Pete says and throws me over his shoulder.

I scream and kick, I punch and try to break free. I must really look like a child right now. Still, I yell and throw my arms around, but it’s no use, Pete’s stronger than I thought he was. And soon, I’m sitting in the back seat, Pete restraining me and Roger driving us home. Every time he has to brake or accelerate he flinches.

“His ankle,” I think.

After that I stop resisting, and after a few more blocks of Roger in pain I say,

“Pete, maybe you should drive, I promise I won’t run away, Roger has a hurt ankle.”

So we quickly park on the side of the road and Pete and Roger switch seats.

Soon enough we get home and Pete help’s Roger to his room. 

“Night,” I say and go down the hall.

Pete and Roger walk into a room together, so I assume they’re sleeping together. I walk past my room, and down the hall, to Keith’s room. Once I’m in his bed I wrap his blankets around me and cry, until I fall asleep.

\------------------

It’s twelve o’clock when I finally wake up. For a second, everything seems fine, until I remember. 

I walk to the kitchen and see Pete and Roger already at the table, talking softly. I grab a bowl of cereal and convince myself to eat, luckily food tastes better than yesterday. I finish about half the bowl, but can’t eat anymore than that. I get up to put my bowl in the sink and that’s when the phone rings. I drop the bowl in shock. Once I have time to register what this means I’m rushing to the phone, but Pete’s already there. Roger and I watch him and I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life. 

Eventually, Pete hangs up, the second the phone is back on the hook he bursts into tears and sinks to the floor. I feel my life flash before my eyes. I don’t think I can ever be happy again. I’ll never feel joy, I’ll never play my bass again, I’ll never-

“He’s alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sister also wrote this chapter cause she's gonna write chapters sometimes.


	6. L'appel Du Vide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete and Roger talk and stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keefers is dead. :(((

*John’s POV*

I don’t think people have distinct scents; maybe that’s the problem with me. All of the books I’ve read describe sneakily stealing a lover’s shirt to smell in the night. I did that with Keith once. The shirt was gray and short sleeved. When I was ready for bed I didn’t put it on, but pressed it to my nose. Within five minutes it was discarded on the floor because I needed to breathe, it didn’t smell like Keith. 

The door doesn’t smell like Keith, the carpet doesn’t smell like Keith, the dresser doesn’t smell like Keith, the bed doesn’t smell like Keith. I thought this was his room, at least, I thought that the first night I slept here alone. But now the bed’s unmaid, but not in Keith’s way. And my clothes are scattered around, while Keith’s are hidden in drawers. And the knick-knacks on Keith’s drawers are so familiar they’ve become mine. I wonder if his scent is still here, if I could smell it maybe it would be, but it’s probably not.

It doesn’t matter if I keep the same sheets on the bed, or the blinds the exact way they were when he left, it’s not his room. Two weeks used to feel so short, but that was before. Now I sit on my phone all day, not because I’m bored, but because I don’t want to miss the call from the hospital, the call when Keith wakes up. Fuck him and his dumb ass coma. Fuck him.

Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. 

Damn, I wish I could fuck him. Is it bad, that that’s what I’m thinking? That’s not all I’m thinking. In fact, that’s the last thing on my mind. I want to see him smile; that’s number one. I know that at least. It’s hard to number the rest of them. I want him to wake up, and I’ll rush to the hospital. Or, I’ll try, but I’ll have to bring Pete and Roger too. The minutes will seem like hours as they take forever to get ready; in reality they’re probably rushing. Then we’ll get in the car, and Pete will drive as I panic in the back seat and Roger sits there acting however he acts with his broken ankle, because he has a broken ankle. And we’ll rush in to the hospital and run to Keith’s room, me running the fastest. And we’ll open the door and there he’ll be, and he’ll smile. That’s just it, I don’t care what else happens, I just want him to smile. 

“John,” Pete knocks on the door.

“Yeah?”

I wonder if he feels as weird as I do when he goes to Keith’s room as if it’s mine.

“Can I come in?”

I open the door, he puts both hands on my shoulders and applies pressure, almost like he’s pushing me down.

He opens his mouth then pauses, he takes a deep breath.

“He’s not awake yet… I’m sorry”

I feel my heart rate increase severely and my hands start sweating, my ears ring and it feels like I’m underwater, my mind starts swimming and my vision gets blurry. Another day that Keith is asleep, another day that I’m without him, another day increases the chances of him dying. While I know the chances him dying are extremely slim I can’t help but think that the longer he’s in this coma the more dead he is, or that when he comes back he won’t be himself at all.

Pete pulls the blanket over me, I barely even registered him walking me to the bed.

“I’ll check again in the morning,” he whispers and pets my hair a bit before leaving the room.

\----------------

*Pete’s POV*

I walk outside of John’s roo- Keith’s room, fuck. It’s okay, it’s Keith’s room and will be Keith’s room when he returns, whenever that is. Suddenly I feel myself getting a headache. I close the door and then turn around. I find myself face to face with Roger. 

I don’t really know what to say to him, I’ve tried to talk to him after I took him to the hospital to get a cast but he doesn’t really respond unless John’s around, I figure he’s trying to put up a strong front. I guess ‘hi’ would be good enough.

“Hi,” I say.

“Pete,” he says cautiously.

“Yes…?” 

“I need to talk to you.”

“Ok.”

I follow him to the living room, growing tenser every second. He sits down on the couch and I sit down across from him.

“So,” he begins, “you know how I said I really liked you?”

I nod. Is that was this is about? Is he about to apologize? He thinks I don’t like him. Maybe he’s going to tell me he’s trying to move on. What if he tries to ask me out on a date, I can’t commit to that.

“Well I don’t really anymore, so it’s all good,” he laughs.

“Oh,” I say.

It’s so quiet that I’m scared I didn’t actually say it, the words seem to dissipate from the air as soon as they leave my mouth. The only confirmation I have that I’m not going crazy is Roger.

“What do you mean ‘oh?’” he questions.

“I just didn’t expect you to say that is all.”

“What did you expect me to say?”

“Um…”

It’s less like I expected him to confirm his feelings again, and more like I wanted him to. But I can’t tell him that, especially if he’s just gotten over me. I’m not even sure I’m capable of a relationship and to pull him back in would just be cruel.

“I don’t know,” I continue, “just not that…”

“Is it bad?” he asks.

“No!” I respond almost too frantically.

Roger doesn’t notice though, cause he just smiles.

“Ok,” he says sweetly, “come on let’s go eat dinner.”

“Did you make something?”

“No, but couldn’t we go out to eat Pizza or something?”

“We can’t leave John alone.”

“Yeah you can it’s ok,” a voice says from behind me.

I whip around to see John leaning against a wall tiredly. My mind is begging me to ask him how long he’s been here, but that might be more suspicious than him actually hearing our conversation.

I don’t have anymore time to ponder how screwed we are because Roger puts his hand on my shoulder and leans into my ear. 

“It’s ok he just got here, I saw him,” he reassures quietly before rubbing my shoulder and moving back away.

“Are you sure?” I ask John.

“Yeah,” he responds, “it’s not fair that you guys have to constantly baby me all the time, I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t want to come?” Roger asks.

“No, I have a headache.”

Roger and I glance at each other nervously before looking back at John.

“Jesus guys!” he exclaims, “it’s just a headache! I’ll be fine! I’ve had thousands of headaches, I’m not gonna die, now go!”

He goes back to his- Keith’s room and me and Roger look at each other before laughing. John is such a baby.

I hop up and reach my arms down to help Roger up, who, of course, refuses my help in an attempt to seem strong and get up on his own. He puts one foot firmly on the ground and thrusts himself up from the couch, inertia caries him up, onto one foot, and then he’s falling down, face forward. Luckily I’m there to catch him.

I try to stretch my left arm across his body and grab his right arm (me being on his left side) to prevent him from falling, but because of him only being on one foot this results in him spinning around to face me and me having to move my right around his back to support his weight. 

I’m sure it only lasts a few seconds but I wouldn’t be able to tell you without question how long. How long I held Roger in my arms while he stared into my eyes, mouth slightly agape, and hair tousled. On the one hand it feels like hours, on the other hand it feels impossibly short before he’s gripping my sweater and pulling himself up, and on the third hand it feels like no time at all.

He grabs his crutches and throws me the car keys,

“Pizza?” he asks.

“Pizza,” I say.

I walk, he hops, down to the car and I open the passenger seat door for him to get in.

“M’lady,” I say jokingly.

Roger tries to playfully hit my arm in response, but this means he has to let go of one of his crutches. The second he does, it starts falling to the ground and he quickly leans over to grab it. This causes him to lose his balance and he hops around for a few seconds before steadying himself on the car. I burst out laughing.

“God I hate this,” he says while repositioning the crutch underneath his arm.

“What?” I ask in between laughter.

“I can’t even hit you!”

This causes me to laugh even harder. Roger just gets angrier, which is also funny.

Once I’ve finally calmed down I turn my face into one of hurt and ask,

“You want to hit me?”

“Oh my god Pete, not like that,” he starts trying to apologize.

My face breaks out into a grin and he notices.

“I hate you so much,” he says.

“You’re so nice,” I say sarcastically.

“Come here, let me hit you, you deserve it,” he says while swinging his arms at me, trying to reach me from the car.

“No, I will not let you abuse me like this.”

“Oh, shit!” he says, “I think it’s Liana!” he points behind me.

I turn around quickly and struggle to see where he’s pointing.

I turn back around to ask him where she is but when I do I see that he’s hopped over to me and he hits me hard on my arm.

For a second I’m confused and then I realize what he’s done and I start yelling,

“Assault! Assault! Someone help me I’m being assaulted!”

“SHHHHH!” he says and tries to put his hand over my mouth but I just grab it and pull it away.

“Assault! I’m being abused!”

“Pete stop!” he says jokingly and put another hand on my mouth, I just grab this one with my other hand.

“Someone call the police!”

“Pete stop let me go I’m gonna fall!” he says smiling.

He hops backwards, trying to reach his crutches which are leaned against the car.

Eventually we reach the car and he attempts to let go of my hand to grab his crutches but I hold on tight and lightly shove him against the car.

We’re both shocked by the movement and frozen still, looking at each other. I didn’t realize what I was doing until it was too late.

“Abuse is bad,” I say lamely.

Roger laughs and leans into me.

“Okay Pete,” he says against my shoulder.

I’ve gone too far, I can’t make him fall in love with me again.

I pull away slowly and realize I’m still holding Roger’s hands, as much as I want to, I just can’t let him go, so I let him do it first.

“Um..” he says and take his hands back, “I think we should go get pizza.”

“Yeah,” I say and gesture towards the open passenger door, “I’ll um… go to the other side.”

\---------------

It’s an awkward silence as I drive to the pizza place and as we sit down and get ready to order. My mind keeps playing the events over and over again in my head: the way his hands felt in mine, the way his blue eyes looked, and then, the way his body felt when he leaned into me, the way it shook when he laughed, and the way his breath felt against my shoulder when he spoke.

I’ve never felt this way about anyone before: I’ve never been flustered, I’ve never replayed events in my head (except for when I was jacking off and needed some mental porn of course). But it’s never been like this, this feels like I’m a school girl with a silly crush, over analyzing everything so I can gossip to my friends later. I’ve never had a boyfriend, the most I’ve had with guys is a few one night stands. I’ve only ever had 3 girlfriends and none of those relationships have lasted anymore than 3 months. All in all, I’m a failure at commitment. I care about Roger too much for him to get hurt; if I can’t promise him a stable relationship I won’t give him any relationship at all. Minimize the risk, it’s better that way. Or, it would be if, I would stop fucking up and luring Roger back in. Because across the table at the restaurant I can see Roger reading his menu, except he’s not, it’s just a disguise, a distraction, so I won’t notice how he glances up at me every few seconds. Well, it’s not working, and eventually I grow tired. So the next time Roger looks up, I catch his eye, hoping he’ll become embarrassed and look away; but he doesn’t, instead he lowers the menu and hold my gaze. And the look he gives me, that fucking look: steady and stone cold- like he knows exactly what he wants, but innocent and vulnerable- like he’s begging me to take control, cold and calculating- like he’s examining me, but warm and inviting- like he wants me to examine him, and his eyes hold a slight smirk to them- like he knows I am examining him. And then he blushes and looks down, and that’s when I know I’ve done it, I’ve already failed, only an hour after he told me he was over me, I’ve made him fall for me again.

The waitress approaches our table.

“Hello boys what would you like to eat?” she asks.

“Um,” I say hoarsely. 

I clear my throat.

“Can we get a medium cheese pizza?”

“Yeah,” Roger confirms.

“Ok, is that all?” she asks, while writing down our order.

“Um… two waters,” Roger says.

After that the waitress walks away and we resume our silence, me trying to figure out how to make Roger hate me, him also deep in thought.

“Pete?” he asks suddenly.

“Yeah?” I’m snapped away from my thoughts.

“I feel like…” he begins.

Oh shit.

“I feel like you haven’t been able to feel sad about Keith… Like you’ve had to be so strong for John, so you’re just keeping everything inside, that’s not healthy,” he finishes.

Oh okay so that’s what this is about.

“I’m fine...” I insist.

“Are you sure? It’s not fair that you haven’t been able to be sad about this. And I’m kind of worried for you. It’s not good that you’ve just been keeping your feelings inside like this. Everyone has to get sad sometimes, everyone has to cry. You can cry now if you want, it’s okay, you don’t have to be tough around me. You can be sad.”

“Well you haven’t been sad either,” I snap and get defensive, thinking that maybe Roger will be offended and back off.

But he’s not, and he doesn’t, he just takes a deep breath, looks at me, and starts talking.

“The day that we found him we were all in the kitchen, you remember?” he doesn’t wait for me to answer, just continues, “and then John went to apologize to him, and I thought ‘ok, John will make him feel better and this will all be okay.’ And then he was calling back to you, telling you that Keith wouldn’t open the door. I knew you were annoyed. You said, ‘well what does he expect me to do?’ and angrily stood up. I knew you were still so focused on the Liana thing, and Keith being stubborn like this was just adding to your stress. But I couldn’t help thinking that… that something bad was gonna happen. That this was always how it happened in the movies before… before they found the person dead. I watched you walk away and I wanted to go after you to make sure it was all okay, but my ankle was killing me and I didn’t know how to use crutches that well yet, so I stayed put. Then I heard your muffled voices through the walls and then a bang, I jumped up and started trying to go to the bathroom. I heard John laughing so I stopped and relaxed, thinking ‘it’s all okay.’ And then he stops, and he screams and I’m rushing over. The first thing I saw was Keith and it felt like my entire world was crashing down, I was on the verge of tears. The second thing I saw was you, getting a towel to stop the bleeding while you were on the phone with the police. The last thing I saw was John’s face, and I knew I couldn’t cry because he needed me, and you needed me, because you couldn't take care of all of us. So I stopped feeling like I was gonna cry because I had to help John. I started trying to get him out of there and onto the couch but it was really hard with my ankle. I almost gave up, but then I looked at his face again and I… I thought about how I would feel if… if this happened to… to you……..” he looks down and then quickly up, like he’s checking my expression, before looking down again, then he continues,” and… how I would want someone to help me and comfort me. So I got him to the couch and I lie him down in my lap and pat his arm and try to comfort him. Then Keith is being rolled out on a stretcher and you’re helping me to the car and I’m helping John and we go. We go to the hospital and I stay strong, I don’t feel like crying at all, because I have to help John. I’m still worried, worried out of my mind, and tense, but I wasn’t gonna cry. And it isn’t until the car ride back that I start to find a problem with that. I start to worry that I’m emotionless and this has ruined me forever. And then I do start feeling like I want to cry. But I feel guilty because of it. I feel selfish because I’m about to cry over not feeling anything, and not over Keith lying in a hospital bed. And then we get home and I follow you into your room, because I can’t bare to be alone, and you let me. We just lie there, on opposite sides of the bed, until you fall asleep. And then I cry, and somehow that’s how I know it’ll all be alright. While there’s so much uncertainty, about Liana, about Keith, about John, about… you…” he lets the word hang in the air, “somehow in the middle of all of that I managed to feel certain that it would all be okay. When I woke up in the morning that feeling didn’t last, and it hasn’t come back, but it’s… okay.”

There’s silence, he’s just shared his heart with me, his deepest feelings. He’s told me everything, and I don’t know what to do. I want to tell him, I want to tell him so much. It’s like l'appel du vide, the call of the void, I'm on the edge of a cliff. I’m standing looking down at the fall and I want to jump. But I know I can’t, because there’s only one thing certain, it’s certain that I will fall, but not that I will land. L'appel du vide, everyone has it, no one gives in. But… sometimes they do, sometimes I do. I take a deep breath, I take a step, I jump, and I fall.

“I-” I start, but I’m interrupted.

“Here’s your pizza boys! One medium cheese!” the waitress says cheerfully.

And I’m back on the edge of the cliff, looking down, l'appel du vide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> L'appel du vide: A french expression meaning 'the call of the void,' it describes the feeling of wanting to jump when in a high place.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading xoxo


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